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Numb
Being able to feel... What's it like, really? It's been so long since I last.. Felt, you can say, that I forgot what it was like to smile, to cry. To feel guilty. I simply feel... Numb. Prologue The figure gazed at the lifeless body before her, and assured that he was dead, uncovered her black mask. She was beautiful, most people would agree, with white blond hair the length of her waist which she usually tied into a ponytail, and eyes dark as the night with a cold, piercing gaze that can seemingly stare into the depths of your soul. Achlys, that's what her mother named her. Darkness. She stared at the man's hollow eyes, which gazed at the white painted ceiling, and looked at the deep stab wound in his chest. Around him were scattered the broken shards of what used to be a bottle of beer, along with the clear, foamy liquid she loathed. She's always hated beer, comparing its flavor to that of a hair spray's. Memories flooded her brain. The man, before he died, seemed depressed and devastated, gazing at a picture on the wall between gulps, so she figured the whole suicide thing would be convincing. She arched her eyebrow, wondering what the picture could've been, and quickly she walked towards it, her curiosity taking over. She'd been told a million-maybe a billion- times not to mess with victims' business, but she couldn't help but wonder. The picture was kind of small, framed with dark brown wood which she couldn't determine, and it was hung with some kind of rope onto a rusted-looking nail lousily hammered onto the beige wall. It was the picture of a smiling woman, her dark eyes reflecting the camera snapping her picture. She had slightly tanned skin and freckles splashed on her nose, her long red hair-which was for sure, dyed- tucked behind her green shirt. She looked beautiful without any effort, and she looked happy. Happy. The girl scowled. She'd always hated happy people, simply because she envied them. She hadn't been happy for what-years, maybe. The fates were cruel, they've always been all those years of her life. Her voice, taken away from her the second she was born. So did her childhood when she was 5. Then soon, her happiness. Suddenly, upon hearing a knock on the door, she quickly snatched her mask and disappeared into the darkness. Chapter 1 The girl slowly walked into the dark room and switched on the light. Blinking and muttering of the dust that entered her eyes, she walked towards the red couch sitting in the middle and dumped her rucksack onto it. Being the 16 year old perfectionist she was, her eyes scanned the room, making sure everything was still in place. Seeing that everything hadn't moved even an inch away, she let out a deep sigh of relief and jumped onto the couch. Peace at last. Quickly she grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, hoping for a good show to at least brighten her usual horrible mood a bit, but ended up being disappointed. Suddenly, she noticed a tiny, neatly folded pink envelope by the window. She grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, which at the time was showing some weird baby show with high, rainbow-colored bunnies with googly eyes and creepy smiles. Slowly she walked towards the window and opened it, throwing the envelope into the black dustbin in the corner. There, written in crappy, barely readable handwriting was, "Dearest Amanda Quinn," Achlys paused, her black eyes staring at her name. Ironic, Amanda, the name her mother picked as her alias, meant worthy of love. Nothing but rubbish, she scowled, and went on with the reading. "This is your neighbor, Layla Brown." Achlys frowned, recognizing her as the creepy smiling woman whose face was obviously botoxed and would go around the neighborhood handing everyone chocolate chip cookies. Inhaling deeply, she continued. "I am inviting every neighbor to my little girl, Lisa's birthday party. I wonder if you could attend. If you did, it would be greatly appreciated. Thank you. P.S: wear pink! :)" Achlys' eyes widened with disgust. She quickly crumpled the pink piece of paper and threw it into the dustbin. Walking back towards her couch, she looked at her clock. It was 7.00, and yet she was sleepy as hell. She decided that it was too early, but her brain was begging for some rest. In the end, she gave up staying awake and walked up the wooden staircase, immediately jumping onto her bed when she arrived. She fell asleep the second her head touched the pillow. Slowly, she opened her eyes to the sound of the chirping birds. Her surroundings were blurry, trees and grasses spreading wherever her eyes looked. She turned her head to see a familiar figure. A woman, her pale skin glistening in the sunlight, stood firmly behind her, hands gripping the hilt of a sword. The black dress she wore were surrounded with swirls of black mist, her eyes the same tone as her black hair. "Are you ready for your training today?" She said, her mouth forming an icy smile. The girl found herself nodding to the question in fright. The woman snapped her long, thin fingers. Suddenly, the ground rumbled violently, and she felt herself falling of the impact. A crack appeared on the ground, and thick black smoke billowed out of it. The swirls of smoke started becoming solid, forming a familiar black horse, its fur glinting in the sunlight. Black Pearl, her mind registered. She ran happily towards it, having ridden it for a couple of years already. The girl suddenly stopped, realizing something different from it. Its dark brown eyes had turned bloodred, and it looked tense, breathing heavily and looking around wildly. She looked at the woman, slightly puzzled. The woman simply laughed, breaking the silence. Her voice, clear and frightening, sent the girl chills. And immediately, she knew something was wrong. In one quick move, the woman tossed her the sword and disappeared into thin air. The horse began to neigh wildly. She walked towards it, trying to get it to calm down, thinking that it was the training. Boy was she wrong. The horse tensed and let out one loud neigh before it galloped towards her. There were these... Things in its eyes, fear, anger, but mostly, insanity. The girl screamed and sidestepped swiftly right before it hit the spot where she was standing on. She dropped the sword, thinking that the horse was afraid of it. "Black Pearl?" Her hand gestured, talking in place of her mute mouth. The horse' eyes flashed brown. It stopped for a second, but soon its eyes turned back to red, and it charged again. The girl's eyes widened in horror. She was about to sidestep again, but the horse was faster. With one strong blow, the girl flew backwards and screamed. Soon, she felt herself hitting against the solid earth, a horrible pain shooting through her body. She felt her bones cracking, and blood flowing out of the gashes on her skin. She squinted in pain and pressed her hands against the ground, only to be welcomed by an even worse jolt of pain. She felt tears dripping down her face as she helplessly gazed at the horse, hoping for it to snap out of it. It neighed, ready to charge and finish her off, and she closed her eyes, readying herself to die. The girl felt a tingle on her skin, and opened her eyes just in time to see a black wall of mist slam against the horse. Darkness. She thought-no, she was sure she was good as dead by then, and she wept. Nothing but darkness surrounded her, together with a cold, frightening silence. Slowly, the smoke cleared off. Between heavy, painful coughs -she was nearly sure that she had broken some bones of her ribcage-, her eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. There stood the woman, the same icy smile plastered on her face. She snapped her fingers, and the smoke disappeared into nothingness. "Good. You have started to control your abilities, I see." She said. "But you are weak-hearted. You are too kind, even, to be my daughter." She spat. The girl bowed, shaking. Streams of tears still flowing down her face, this one of fear. "Now, finish him off." The girl's eyes widened in horror. She looked up to see the woman pointing at a direction. Quickly she turned her head, only to find herself face to face with Black Pearl. WIP